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Rival Attractions & Innocent Secretary(58)



'No,' Emma admitted, because sometimes it still hurt. 'Do you want to name her after yours?'

'No,' Luca said. He had forgiven Mia, and he was happy to see her with  Leo, but, well, it was all too new and too much just yet. He didn't even  know what to do with his own surname, let alone pass on his mother's  first name too!

'Aurora,' Emma said.

'Aurora?' Luca played with the word in his mind and liked it. 'It means dawn … '

'And new beginnings,' Emma said, gazing from her infant to her husband.  They would follow their own course now. This precious clean slate they  had been given deserved the very best they could give her, and that's  what she would get.

A new beginning.

* * * * *





ISBN-13: 978-0-373-23711-1

INNOCENT SECRETARY … ACCIDENTALLY PREGNANT                       
       
           



       

First North American Publication 2010.

Copyright © 2010 by Carol Marinelli.

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or  utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any  electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented,  including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information  storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission  of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road,  Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are  either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously,  and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business  establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

For questions and comments about the quality of this book please contact us at [email protected]

® and TM are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ®  are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the  Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.

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PROLOGUE


SURELY NOT?

As Raul Di Savo thanked the mourners who had attended his mother's  funeral a figure standing in the distance caught his attention.

He wouldn't dare to come here!

Not today of all days.

The tolling of the bell in the small Sicilian church had long since ceased, but it still seemed to ring in Raul's ears.

'Condoglianze.'

Raul forced himself to focus on the elderly gentleman in front of him  rather than the young man who stood on the periphery of the cemetery.

'Grazie,' Raul said, and thanked the old man for his attendance.

Given the circumstances of Maria's death, and fearing Raul's father's wrath, most had stayed away.

Gino had not attended his wife's funeral.

'She was a whore when I married her and she goes into the ground the same.'

That was how he had broken the news of her death to his son.

Raul, having been told of a car accident involving his mother, had  travelled from Rome back to Casta-a town on the Sicilian's wild west  coast-but he had arrived only to be told that she had already gone.

He had been too late.

Slowly, painfully, he had pieced together the timeline of shocking  events that had led to Maria's death. Now Raul performed his familial  duties and stood graveside as the line of mourners slowly moved past  him.

Condolences were offered, but small talk was strained. The events of the  last few days and the savage condemnations that were now coursing  through the valley made even the simplest sentence a mockery.

'She was a good … ' A lifetime family friend faltered in his choice of  words. 'She was … ' Again there was hesitation over what should be said.  'Maria will be missed.'

'She will be,' Raul duly replied.

The scent of freshly dug soil filled his nostrils and lined the back of  his throat, and Raul knew there was no comfort to be had.

None.

He had left it too late to save her.

And now she was gone.

Raul had studied hard at school, and had done so well in his exams that  he had received a scholarship and, as he had always intended, been able  to get out of the Valley of Casta.

Or, as Raul and his friend Bastiano had called it, the Valley of Hell.

Raul had been determined to get his mother away from his father.

Maria Di Savo.

Unhinged, some had called her.

Fragile was perhaps a more appropriate word.

Deeply religious until she had met his father, Maria had hoped to join  the local convent-an imposing stone residence that looked out on the  Sicilian Strait. His mother had wept when it had closed down due to  declining numbers, as if somehow her absence had contributed to its  demise.

The building had long stood abandoned, but there was not a day Raul  could remember when his mother hadn't rued the day she had not followed  her heart and become a novice nun.

If only she had.

Raul stood now, questioning his very existence, for her pregnancy had forced Maria into the unhappiest of marriages.                       
       
           



       

Raul had always loathed the valley, but never more so than now.

He would never return.

Raul knew his drunken father's demise was already secured, for without Maria's care his descent would be rapid.

But there was another person to be taken care of.

The man who had forced this tragic end.

Raul had made a vow as he'd thrown a final handful of soil into his  mother's open grave that he would do whatever it might take to bring him  down.

'I shall miss her.'

Raul looked up and saw Loretta, a long-time friend of his mother who worked in the family bar.

'No trouble today, Raul.'

Raul found himself frowning at Loretta's choice of words, and then  realised why she suddenly sounded concerned-he was looking beyond the  mourners now, to the man who stood in the distance.

Bastiano Conti.

At seventeen, Bastiano was a full year younger than Raul.

Their families were rivals.

Bastiano's uncle owned most of the properties and all of the vineyards on the west of the valley.

Raul's father was king of the east.

The rivalry went back generations, and yet their black history had been  ignored by the young boys and, growing up, the two of them had been  friends. They had gone through school together, and often spent time  with each other during the long summer breaks. Before Raul had left the  valley he and Bastiano had sat drinking wine from the opposing families'  vines.

Both wines were terrible, they had agreed.

Similar in looks, both were tall and dark and were opposed only in nature.

Bastiano, an orphan, had been raised by his extended family and got through life on charm.

Raul was serious and mistrusting, and had been taught to be fickle.

He trusted no one, but said what he had to to get by.

Though different in style, they were equally adored by women.

Bastiano seduced.

Raul simply returned the favour.

There had been no rivalry between the young men-both could have their pick of the valley and the fruits were plenty.

Yet Bastiano had used his dark charm on the weakest and had taken Maria as his lover.

Pillow talk had been gathered and secrets had been prised from loose lips.

Not only had Maria had an affair-she had taken it beyond precarious and  slept with a member of the family that Gino considered his enemy.

When the affair had been discovered-when the rumours had reached  Gino-Loretta had called her to warn her husband was on his angry way  home. Maria had taken out a car she didn't know how to drive.

An unwise choice in the valley.

And Raul knew the accident would not have happened but for Bastiano.

'Raul … .' Loretta spoke softly, for she felt the tension rip through him  and could hear his ragged breathing. She held onto his hand, while  knowing nothing could really stop him now. 'You are Sicilian, and that  means you have a lifetime to get your revenge-just don't let it be  today.'

'No,' Raul agreed.

Or did he refute?

Raul's words were coming out all wrong, his voice was a touch hoarse,  and as he looked down he could see the veins in his hand and feel the  pulse in his temples. He was primed for action, and the only thing Raul  knew for sure was that he hated Bastiano with all that he had.

He dropped Loretta's hand and brushed past her, then shrugged off someone else who moved to try to stop him.

'Raul!' The priest shot him a warning. 'Not here-not now.'

'Then he should have stayed away!' Raul responded as he strode through  the cemetery towards the man who had sent his mother to an early grave.